This is a Kindness, Do Not Be Alarmed
by lexi'ssorryforthis
Summary: 5 times Lucifer pretended to be kind to Sam in the Cage, and one time he actually was. Not Samifer in the slightest. It's a Cage fic, so warnings for physical torture (a little), mental torture (a lot), possible implied non-con, suicide, and some language. It could probably be T, but I'm playing it safe.
1. 1: Release

_**1. Release**_

Cas came for Sam almost immediately after he, the Devil, his brother, and Michael landed in a heap on the floor of the Cage. He had an angel blade in his grip and spoke with authority that Sam had never heard come from him before, "I'm taking Sam and Adam."

"No you're not." Lucifer glared at Castiel, his hand gripping Sam's arm tightly. "Or maybe you'll take Adam, but I'm supposed to keep Sam."

"You're wrong. You were supposed to take his body and burn up his soul so he could go to his eternal reward in Heaven for following the will of God," Cas corrected without even blinking.

Sam's mind was frozen – _I get a place in Heaven?_ – and his body was numb. Adam had already crossed the floor to stand next to Castiel (well, cower behind Castiel was more like it). Michael stood up and asked with a quavering voice, "What about me, brother?"

Cas bowed his head, but said nothing.

"You mean our father doesn't want me to come home?" Michael was crying, taking a few steps forward, "I've been the most loyal son any father could ask for, and he said to leave me here?"

"No Michael," the reply was almost missed it was so quiet. "_We_ decided to leave you here, because our father left us without any commands whatsoever and you betrayed us. You made us follow your will and made it seem like our father never left. We see that now, and we decided you will be punished for it." Cas looked up, his face stormy and unforgiving. "We condemn you to the punishment you always set for angels who chose free will, because while you exercised yours, you denied us of our own."

"I only did what I thought our Father would have wanted," Michael pleaded.

"Based on the events that led you here, I would say you thought wrong."

The so-called loyal son didn't say anything, just cast one last teary, hopeful look around the prison. Finding no sympathy, he looked down and sighed, "Well if you have the power to choose, then so do I," then snapped his fingers and exploded in a burst of light, leaving only scorch marks on the ground.

When the brightness diminished, Cas extended his hand to Sam, who was still frozen in place. "Are you coming, friend?" The question was asked gently, but he looked at Lucifer with malice and threats in his eyes, and the Devil let go of Sam's arm that he'd been holding. Finally processing all of it – _He's letting me go, Lucifer is letting me go and I get to go to Heaven!_ – Sam ran to Cas's side as if he'd been burned.

Cas nodded, one hand holding each Winchester brother, and they walked out of the Cage. But just as the door was about to close, Lucifer silently lunged forward and snatched Sam's soul from his body and pulled it back into the prison.

"I don't think anyone even noticed," he grinned evilly over the ball of light that was quickly settling into form as a duplicate of its former host body. "Now this is gonna hurt like a bitch, so try not to scream."

The Cage door slammed shut, and Sam's torture began.

**AN: The idea of Cas getting Adam out with Sam's body was already done by cashasthebluebox in the fic "The Cursed Child", thank you for the inspiration!**

**Also, the bit about Sam not being allowed to scream is not mine but I've read a ton of fics that incorporated this that I don't know who to credit. If you know, message me!  
**


	2. 2: Peace

_**2. Peace**_

For twenty years, Lucifer ripped Sam apart in every way he could think of, and many more that he couldn't. But on the twentieth anniversary of their fall (as Lucifer called it), there was a blinding flash of light, and a terrible scream, and the angel was gone. Not only that, but Sam was free, fully healed, and felt better and stronger than he had since the fall. At first, he was cautious. He climbed off the rack and sat in the warmest corner of the Cage, waiting.

Waiting for Lucifer to come back, for a year. He must have just popped into Hell for a bit to deal with someone (although Sam hadn't known that Lucifer could get into Hell before).

Waiting for Castiel to come back, for ten years. He must have realized Sam's soul was still in the Cage and done something about it, and was having trouble opening the door.

Waiting for Dean, for fifty years. He broke his promise and was trying to help Sam make an escape, but Sam didn't mind.

Waiting for God, for a hundred years. Maybe God had something up his sleeve for Sam and was moving slowly, or maybe the waiting was a test of faith like in the Bible.

In the meantime, Sam found isolation to be almost enjoyable; it was one step short of Heaven compared to what came before. He started whistling, carving drawings into the walls, tinkering with the torture tools Lucifer left behind to try and make something useful for getting out. He slept and dreamed the most wonderful dreams of his entire life: of his parents safe and happy and together, of Jess in her heaven, of Dean with Lisa and Ben having Christmas together (and Dean even being happy about it).

After a hundred and sixty-two years of waiting, Sam woke up and found himself still on the rack, Lucifer hovering nearby. No time at all had passed – it was still the twentieth anniversary of the fall. "Hope really is the greatest torture of all, even for monsters like you," Lucifer said as he prepared to inject him with a vial of cloudy green liquid.

Sam's torture continued.

**AN: Credit for "Hope is the greatest torture of all" goes to AlElizabeth in her fic "Burning Bright", thank you for the inspiration!**


	3. 3: Music

_**3. Music**_

Around the fifty-year mark, Lucifer showcased a new talent.

"I could have danced all night, I could have danced all night, and still have begged for more," Lucifer sang as he shredded Sam's liver. Sam's face was twisted tight with pain, his hands clenched in fists so hard his nails drew blood from his palm, but he didn't dare scream. It was against the rules to scream.

Instead, Sam concentrated on Lucifer's singing. The fallen angel never stopped, and the things he could do with his voice was incredible. Any note, any accent, any voice he could mimic perfectly – and he did.

He sang Van Halen as he pulled out Sam's fingernails.

He sang The Beatles as he flayed the skin off of Sam's feet.

He sang Jack Johnson as he cooked Sam's intestines while he watched.

Sam focused on the singing for the next seventeen years; on how it was more beautiful than any singing he'd ever heard in memory; on how it didn't hurt him like everything else in the Cage. In a twisted way, it was a comfort.

One day, Lucifer sang Metallica. Sam fucking lost it.

He screamed out every insult and curse and damning phrase he could think of, in every language available to him. He thrashed around on the rack, trying to get free with new energy brought by his anger. He cried uncontrollably. In his rage, Sam actually managed to knock over the rack he was strapped to, which hit the table where Lucifer kept his "friends" as he called them – his scythes and needles and razors – and spilled the instruments of torture all over the floor. Having spent his energy, Sam found himself bound sideways and facing a very amused Lucifer. Sam had screamed. He was in so much trouble now.

With a wave of his hand, Lucifer undid Sam's bindings and helped him stand up. "I want to show you something," he said, holding out a hand. Sam flinched and stepped backwards. "It's okay, Sam. It won't hurt, I promise – and you know angels keep their promises."

Haltingly, and with a pained expression, Sam took his hand, and the walls of the Cage dissolved around them. Instead, an unfamiliar apartment took its place. "Where are we?"

"The living room of a brilliant but insignificant Swedish banker," Sam made to ask another question, but Lucifer stopped him. "No, this isn't her Hell. Well, it technically is, but she's top tier so she only gets tortured by the boredom she always lived with. Don't worry, she's at work at the moment." Lucifer turned on the TV, sprawled out on the sofa, and motioned for Sam to take the one opposite. Sam sat, but didn't relax an inch. They stayed like that for a long time, in silence but for an episode of _Friends_ playing in the background.

"Sam, you're right. I know I can have a bit of a mean streak."

Sam said nothing, just huffed and glared.

"But I promise," Lucifer spoke softly, and reached out to touch his arm, "I'll never be this bad again." Sam flinched at the touch, and looked at Lucifer in surprise. He'd never said anything like this before. He'd never purposefully been nice.

Just when it looked like Sam would take the bait, Lucifer's expression turned deadly and ice crept in his voice, "I'll be so much worse." All at once the apartment dissolved and Lucifer was dragging Sam by the hair and he was hurting worse than ever before and he didn't know how, he didn't know how, he didn't know…

But he did know that angels kept their promises. Sam's torture got worse.

And the Devil kept singing Metallica.

**AN: I already mentioned that Sam not screaming belonged to someone else, but here it's in more detail so thank you again!**


	4. 4: Dean

_**4. Dean**_

"Hey bunkmate!" Lucifer cheerily woke Sam, "It's our 100th anniversary!" Sam could only manage a groan in response from his position tied down to the table.

"I'm gonna give you a present, Sammy!" The table was flipped to an upright position at the pull of a lever, and a television had been conjured against the wall. Sam looked at Lucifer in surprise. "What? You think I was able to make all these pop culture references because I browsed Wikipedia when I went topside?" Lucifer said with a sarcastic smile. "Come on, let's see what Dean's up to!"

The television flickered to life, and Dean (_He's still alive?_) was on the screen! He was making eggs with Ben, kissing Lisa on the cheek, waving them out the door with a smile on his face that Sam hadn't seen since before Dean went to Hell so very, very long ago. As soon as Lisa's car was out of sight, though, his expression turned – Sam would have called it frowning except that Dean just looked too tired to actually frown. He watched as Dean pulled a bottle of whiskey out from under the couch (_He has a secret stash? Not good!_) and drained a few shots' worth out of it in one go (_Definitely not good_). After he drank half the bottle, Dean started crying freely and got off the couch to go to the garage. He pulled on John's old leather jacket, uncovered the Impala, and slid into the driver's seat, but didn't turn the ignition (_Thank God_).

Instead, Dean started talking. To Sam.

"Hey, Sammy. I don't know if you can hear me, or if that makes it worse, or if that'll make this easier to say – " Dean's voice hitched, "but I gotta talk to you, man. It's been a whole year up here, and I know it's been longer for you. I didn't want to get to today, but you can't stop time, yanno? We've definitely had our share of trying." A broken-sounding chuckle made Sam wince, but he didn't dare make a sound for fear he would miss a word. Dean continued, "I think last time, you got the better end of the deal. Not just 'cause I was the one who went to Hell, but after I went, you had a job to do and you buckled down and did it and you let that be your lifeline, even if it did get fucked up along the way. But you made me promise to get out, so I did, and Lisa and Ben are great, but being here for them isn't doing anything for you. I'm just sitting here in my apple pie, perfect life while you're rotting in the Cage, and it's not-" Dean's voice broke again, and he took another long pull from the bottle. "It's not fair. I broke the first seal, I started the apocalypse, I was supposed to end it, not you. I shouldn't have let you jump, Sam, I should have done it myself, or found another way. I should be in that Cage, not you…"

Sam did not like where this was going. Yes, Dean had broken the first seal, but that was the whole point of having to break 66 of them – if one fell apart, you still had plenty more to hold the lid in place! It was Sam's own work that really started the apocalypse, and he had been so sure that Dean knew that until now.

Meanwhile, Dean had gotten out of the driver's seat and was rummaging through the guns in the hidden bottom of the trunk. "I should be the one in Hell, Sammy," he said again as he pulled Sam's own Taurus from the stash. "But don't worry, I'll fix it now," he pointed the barrel under his chin and cast a furtive look around the garage in case Lisa or Ben had come back unexpectedly. "I'm coming, Sammy," Dean whispered, closed his eyes, and pulled the trigger.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Sam was unable to contain his horror anymore. His dying wish had been for Dean to be happy and safe, but instead he'd guilted his bother into committing suicide. And Dean would never come for him – Yes, he'd be back in Hell, but the Cage was separate and he'd never be able to get in. Dean had just damned himself all over again under the false hope that he'd see his brother, and Sam had driven him to it.

"Do you see what you do, Sam?" Lucifer gleefully whispered in his ear. "You destroy everything you love. It's in your nature – and you know what that means."

Sam turned to him. "What does it mean?" he asked with trepidation.

"It means you're a monster, Sam. And monsters deserve to rot in Hell."

Sam felt his body be eaten alive by bugs and worms. His torture resumed.


	5. 5: Rest

_**5. Rest**_

It had been one hundred and forty-seven years since Sam's jump, despite the tricks and tortures used to make it feel like longer. One hundred and forty-seven years in the Hell of Hell, most of them spent being sliced apart on the rack by Lucifer (and whoever Lucifer felt like disguising himself as) – and the days spent off the rack were worse and _no don't think about it_ Sam reminded himself. _It didn't happen if you don't think about it._

So one day when the restraints were undone and Sam crumbled to the floor, he immediately panicked, saying all the things he'd been told to say mixed with "please" and "don't" and "no" and "anything else" and "I didn't scream, I promise".

"Woah, woah there!" Lucifer looked surprised, but mostly concerned. Sam knew it was a lie though, it was always a lie. "I was just saying that you looked like you needed a break, buddy!" The air shimmered, and changed to an empty, dark, plain room. Lucifer stood in the doorway, Sam stood just inside. "Just rest for a while, you've earned it," Lucifer said, just before closing the door and plunging Sam in complete darkness.

At first, Sam stood stock-still, not daring to move lest it provoke whatever monster was surely lurking in the dark. Sam hunted monsters all his life, true, but it had been so long, and he couldn't remember how – couldn't remember that there were monsters other than himself (and he was a monster after all – why else would Mom and Dad and Dean and Jess and Meg and Ruby and everyone else he'd ever met or wronged called him that as they carved him up for almost a century and a half?). But after standing still for hours, nothing had attacked him, and Sam was tired. Still not trusting anything the Devil left him, he first only allowed himself to sit down, but hours more passed and sitting turned to lying, and lying turned to drowsing, and drowsing turned to deep, restful sleep.

He didn't know how much time had passed when he woke up, but he woke up on his own and still in the dark room and no pain to bring him there. It had been so long since he'd woken up under his own power that it felt foreign to him, and Sam sat there puzzling over it for a while. When a while had passed, he wondered where Lucifer was and why he hadn't decided that his "rest" was over. He wasn't sure how long he waited for his tormentor to come back for him, but eventually he fell back into blissful, dreamless sleep.

When he woke up alone again, he was even more confused. Again, Sam waited for Lucifer to come for him until he fell back asleep.

And again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Sam lost track of how many times he'd woken up in the dark room, and he knew even less how many days he'd been there. He did notice, though, that his wounds were healing. The pain, his constant companion for all these years down here, was less sharp agony and more dull ache each day. Only the smaller ones had closed, though, and there were infinitely more that were open and weeping and grievous. Sam's eyes never adjusted to the darkness (there was absolutely no light, and there probably wasn't much to be seen anyway), so he conducted this research by touch, waited some more for Lucifer, and fell back asleep.

And again.

And again.

And again.

Eventually, he decided he was healed enough to feel his way around the room, since he couldn't really remember why he hadn't done it before. It was as empty as it was dark – but more to the point, he couldn't find the door. _Maybe that will keep Lucifer out,_ Sam thought before falling back asleep.

He woke up alone again.

And again.

And again.

And again

And again…

He was sick of being alone. He was sick of waiting. He was sick of the suspense. He was sick of the boredom. But still he woke up alone.

And again.

And again.

And again…

He wasn't even sure where he was anymore. He was waiting for someone, but he couldn't call out for them; that much he remembered. He'd been completely silent for God knows how long, not daring to talk to himself, or yell for help, or sing – well actually he couldn't even remember any songs he would like to sing. He was so sick of the waiting though, and not having anything to feel, and not having anywhere to go. He dimly remembered his time before the darkness, a world of brightness and heat and pain and cold and confusion and fear, and he knew that there had been something before even that, but he had no idea what it was. Maybe even the time before, with all it's bright light and feeling, had been something he'd imagined? Maybe the darkness was all there was, all there ever had been. Maybe he'd always been alone. Maybe he was never even real at all.

No, but he was real, wasn't he? He was able to think, therefore he had to be… something, right? Hadn't someone said that once? No, there was only himself and the darkness. Everything else was a lie. He was… He was… Wait, who was he? Why was it dark? Where was he? Why couldn't he remember his name? Did he ever have one? And why was it so quiet?

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP! SOMEBODY HELP ME! PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME HERE! HEEEEEEELP!" His voice was creaky and hoarse, but it still rang in the silence that had preceded it for eons.

For a second, there was nothing. Then, a door creaked slowly open, filling the room with a white light so bright and harsh that he yelped and covered his eyes. In the doorway stood a man of average height and build, with stubble on his face and a wide smile. "Well what do we have here?" he asked in a singsong tone.

The man from the darkness gulped. "I… I don't… I don't know. I don't remember."

The one with the smile crouched down into the other's face. "Do you know your name?"

"… No."

"Do you know where you are?"

"No."

"Do you know why you're here?"

"No."

The smiling man stood, then helped the other stand up as well, and led him out of the dark room and into the light. "Your name is Sam," he said gently, as if to a son, "this is your home. And you're here because you're a monster."

Sam was confused. "I'm a monster?"

"Yes. There are many monsters out there. They hurt and kill people, and tear families apart, and sow destruction everywhere they go. But the worst are the things they do to those that love them. They are abominations, and they have to be punished. And you, Sam, are the worst abomination of them all."

Sam gulped again. "I'm here to be punished?"

The man smiled his wide smile again. "That's right! Now, there are a few rules to this whole punishment thing." He kicked Sam's legs out from under him suddenly, and grabbed him by the hair and yanked his face up to meet his own. His smile had turned into a sneer. "Rule number one: never, ever, EVER, scream."

**AN: Thank you again to various authors for the "no screaming" thing.**

**Also thank you to Jedi Sapphire for the idea of Lucifer telling Sam that he's the worst monster of all. It came from the fic In Libris Libertas, which is absolutely perfect in every way and everyone should go read it!**


	6. 1: Pain

_**1. Pain**_

After ten more years, Sam was docile and accepting of whatever Lucifer deigned to do to him. He didn't scream, he didn't speak unless spoken to, and he didn't even glare anymore. But whenever Lucifer paused in his ministrations, Sam would look at him like a kicked puppy until he resumed.

"Sam, is there something you want?" Lucifer asked when the curiosity became too much.

"Yes," Sam croaked.

"What do you want, Sam?" His voice had taken on a fatherly tone.

"Pain," came the immediate answer. "Punishment."

"And why do you want this?'

"It's what I d-deserve."

"Why?"

"B-because I hurt people. Because I'm a m-monster," Sam's whole body was trembling now.

Lucifer beamed down at him, a smile so beautiful and radiant it brought tears to Sam's eyes. "Well, if that's what you want," he said tenderly, "it's the least I can do."

The pain was all-consuming and everywhere, and tears streamed from Sam's eyes but he didn't scream, instead he smiled brighter than he could ever remember. The pain was the greatest kindness Sam had ever known; it was what he expected and what he deserved. Lucifer understood what he needed, and he wouldn't deny him. Lucifer was always so good to him.

**AN: Okay, I started this around the same time I started "Shuffle", so this has been sitting forEVER! This is the piece I put on hold to write "Them Crooked Vultures" when I realized I was adopting some of the more graphic fanon, which makes it my original reaction to the idea of the Samifer ship. My main goal here was to give my version (as inspired by others) of the reasons why 1) Lucifer said, "I thought you loved my singing" in season 7, 2) Sam still has his normal voice after coming back from the Cage even though when Dean went to Hell his voice was like 8 octaves deeper, 3) Sam only hallucinates Lucifer but not Michael, 4) Cas says that Sam has been Lucifer's only target in the cage during S6. The fifth part was finally inspired by me reading Game of Thrones (THEEEEOOOOOONNNNNN!) and turned out WAY darker and WAY longer than I'd originally planned but I love it all the same, especially because that one inspired me to write the epilogue and attempt to thread the monster theme through the rest of it. **

**Another thing: My computer is kind of broken so new fics and updates (and I promise BOJ is going to be updated soon even though practically no one is waiting on that!) are going to be slower than before (and I was already slow, sorry!) until I can get it fixed.**

**Once again, a thousand thank yous to everyone who gave me inspiration, keep writing wonderful fics!  
**


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